The Newbie
by Smiley Jameson
Summary: Since the outbreak, there is only one goal if you want to survive: kill.


I heard a banging on the door. At first I jumped, not at all used to people around here. Well maybe people. Either way I thought I should find out, so I picked up my assault rifle and ran to the door. I slid open the peephole and put the gun through it.

"Any Infected?" I asked sternly.

"No." replied a rough, older sounding male voice.

"How many?"

"Four."

I quickly unbolted all of the locks and opened the door. Four people ran in, three male and one female, and I slammed the door shut, double checking the locks after I refastened them.

"Hi, I'm Emma." I said simply, curious about the stories of these four strangers standing in my shelter. I was 23 with long dark red hair braided to the left out of the way, light green eyes and an average body type, standing awkwardly at about 5'4. I was wearing a black tank top covered with a tight light gray hoodie, black jeans and tall black combat boots. The four looked at me oddly for a moment except for the older man whom I had spoken to at the door who gave me a half smile and shook my hand. I assumed he was the leader of the bunch.

"Bill Overbeck," he said, "and this is Zoey, Louis, and Francis."

The girl he'd called Zoey came up next to Bill and shook my hand too. She her brown hair tied back into a pony tail. She was wearing a white t-shirt topped with a red jacket, dark blue pants and black converse shoes. She had a pistol on each hip and looked about my age.

"I'm Zoey," she said "nice to meet you."

Louis walked up to me next. He was wearing long sleeved white button-up shirt with a red tie, a pair of slacks, and brown dress shoes. He looked as though he'd just gotten home from work at the time of the outbreak. He was holding an assault rifle too and shook my hand as he introduced himself.

"Louis." he said, and retreated back to Zoey's side as Francis approached.

"Guess I'm last," he said unemotionally as if he hated being last. "Name's Francis."

Francis looked like a typical biker; wearing a white tank top, a black leather vest, black jeans, and black motorcycle boots. There was something about him that I wasn't quite used to. I wasn't sure if I'd get the chance to find out what that something was so I pushed the thought to the back of my mind.

"We wouldn't have noticed this place if Zoey hadn't seen the light through the window." Bill said, "Nice set up you've got here. Been here long?"

"A little over a month," I admitted, "I usually don't stay more than a few weeks, but there hasn't been much activity lately. I was thinking of leaving when daylight hits."

"That's probably the best we saw some walkers about a mile back." Bill said.

"How is this place so deserted?" Zoey asked with muted surprise.

"Ghost Town." I replied.

"How did I not think of this before?" she said to herself.

"Movies don't tell you everything." Lewis quietly told her.

"Anyway," I started, "We've got a couple hours until sunrise. You guys hungry? I've got some peanut butter and crackers."

"Peanut Butter?" Zoey asked, astounded.

"Yes?" I replied, confused.

"I love peanut butter…" she said

"There's not much left so don't get too excited." I told her.

"Any peanut butter is good peanut butter." she looked like she'd start drooling any minute.

When we were all dining on peanut butter and crackers I decided to get my awkward curiosity out of the way.

"So life stories anyone?" I asked.

And Bill started them off. He talked about his days in the Green Berets. He talked about Vietnam and his honorable discharge. All of that just to come back and see the outbreak. Just to go through another war.

Next was Louis. He was almost homeless until he got a job as an assistant manager at an electronics store—he hated it but it was money. He landed a job as Junior Systems Analyst in a company IT department and finally got the chance to tell his boss to fuck off. He was just leaving from his new job at the time of the outbreak.

Then Francis. He was in a biker gang called 'Hell's Legion'. He seemed to hate almost everything. He was bored with life and he did rather enjoy letting of some steam with his shotgun, but he never expected the outbreak.

Then Zoey told us about her college life, studying film making, spending more time watching zombie movies with her dad than anything else. She spoke about her parents' rocky marriage and slow paced divorce. About how while arguing with her parents her mother was bitten by a seemingly homeless man, how her mother turned and bit her father, and how her father had begged her to kill him to prevent him from becoming one of the walking dead. And she did.

We were finally getting used to each other's company when a long tongue shot through the peephole and got Louis by the neck.

"Fucking Smoker!" I said, pissed at myself more than anything for forgetting to shut the peephole.

It pulled him with his back against the door. Zoey ran and tried to find an opening to shoot at it. I picked up my machete and slid it between Louis and the door, severing the Smokers tongue. I pulled Louis out of the way as Zoey shot it. After confirming it was dead she ran back to Louis. He was fine, but he was pulling a bottle of pills out of his pocket.

I grabbed my back pack shoving the last package of crackers inside of it along with my small camping light. I pulled a paint marker out of my pocket and wrote 'S' followed by the date and the time and a star. When I finished I met up with the others down the street. Francis and Bill each killed a walker then it was quiet for a while.

"What was that about?" Bill asked.

It's just what I do at any place I stay. I draw a star then the time and date I arrived. I make a list: B= Boomer, S= Smoker, J= Jockey, H= Hunter, T= Tank, and so on. I write the letter when they appear, then when I leave I draw another star. Let's any other survivors know what happened."

"Good idea." He said.

And I smiled. For some reason I wanted this stranger to me proud of me. I suppose it was his leading role.

My eyes caught Francis and I saw that he was eyeing me strangely. I shook the smile off of my face. Apocalypse: a time to be serious. Damn. Then I noticed the zombie running towards him.

I aimed. His eyes grew wide. I shot.

He turned to see the bullet shoot past him and into the eye-socket of the once woman thing behind him.

"Headshot!" I sang

Now Francis smiled.


End file.
